The Shadow of Death

When I was in college I would sometimes wake in the middle of the night to a panicky feeling, only to realize it was because I’d forgotten to deliver someone’s drink at my waitress job or to turn in a paper at school. Not exactly life threatening, so it didn’t take me long to go back to sleep. Later when I became a wife and mother, I woke to thoughts a bit more important like kids’ schedules and overdue bills. Again, nothing critical. But now I feel like I’m constantly aware of the ticking clock hours before I want to be. My mind races with weighty issues that are completely out of my control, like the overabundance of drugs, pornography, and violence that my boys will have to navigate as they grow up and go off on their own. I haven’t been a news watcher for a long time, and I’ve recently adopted the habit of reciting as much Scripture in my head as it takes to doze off again. I recommend both to anyone who deals with nighttime anxiety. It does help, but in a world where evil seems to be intensifying at breakneck speed, it’s getting harder and harder to get a full night’s sleep.

A few nights ago when that familiar 3:00 am anxiety tapped me on the shoulder, I pushed it away with the opening words to the twenty-third Psalm. If I recite it slowly, that one usually has me asleep by the end. This time I stopped in the valley of the shadow of death—not on the words exactly but on the image. I imagined myself there like I never had before—in a deep valley with a black shadow, paralyzing my sense of direction—and it felt scary. It was as if God was saying, “This is what wakes you up, right? The darkness is what bothers you, but there’s no reason to be anxious. It can’t touch you; it’s just a shadow.” I must have recited this Psalm a thousand times through, but I’ve never before realized that the darkness I associate with that valley—the evil of this world—is only the shadow of death, not death itself. Just like an eclipse is impossible without the sun, the shadow of death only exists because of the brightness of God. And just like that eclipse will be gone before you know it, the darkness over this world will disappear when the Light behind it is revealed.

I was shocked the next morning to hear the tragic news that the founder of DonorSee, our main fundraising platform for the ministry in Malawi, was shot and killed in his home. He was only thirty-two years old and left behind a young wife and two babies. Even though I never met Gret in person, I’ve had many phone conversations with him. We’ve been with DonorSee since 2017, shortly after its launch, and I feel a strong sense of connection to the program. During the initial development of his website, I was vocal about what I wanted to see, and Gret was very responsive, making several changes I requested. DonorSee has been instrumental in feeding hundreds of children in our program, and we pray that Gret’s legacy will continue. It’s hard to make sense of such an abrupt and untimely death. I’m sure many people are seeking God’s peace today as we all wait for answers.

I lost my brother to a tragedy when I was in grade school. It took me many years to sleep through the night after that. I know there are no words to comfort a soul in that state of grief. I would not presume to speak any. But I do know that God can and will heal a broken heart, so I ask Him to do that for Gret’s family and for his friends. I pray that they will feel His presence as they walk through this valley and that they will feel the warmth of the Son that shines all around the shadow of death. What a sweet day of fellowship it will be when we’re reunited with those who have been swallowed up by death, when we discover that it was indeed just a shadow and that what is real is Jesus and His life and resurrection. May God bless this dear family and grant them peace and comfort until they can once again sleep through the night.

HUGS for Tomorrow

The day is finally here! Five years after we moved to Africa, we now have an official 501(c)3 nonprofit organization. We’ve been working for months with a banker, a lawyer, and an accountant to file all the paperwork necessary to allow us to register with the government and receive tax-free donations on behalf of the children of Malawi. I can’t say it was a fun process, but we are happy to announce that it’s done and we can get on with the business of raising those kids. This brings a few very positive changes for you, our friends and supporters. 

First of all, when you give money to help the kids in the program, it goes straight to them with nothing and no one in between. There’s no more waiting to see if we got your donation, and there’s no chance it’s going to get lost among the other ministries sharing the same account—even if you forget to write it on the memo line of your check. Over the past twenty-five years we have enjoyed the oversight of some excellent churches all over the country, but managing an overseas ministry is a big job even when it’s one dimensional like this started out, feeding kids. But when that one dimension turns into the many facets involved in developing a PreK-12th grade school, that big job becomes a full time job. It’s not fair to expect any church to juggle that caliber of ministry alongside all the others they support. That’s why we’ve made it an autonomous entity with its own board of directors. Though it’s a bittersweet transition for us as we become more independent, we hope to be a source of pride and accomplishment for the many people who have helped us get to where we are today. It’s nice to be able to accept funds from a church without obliging them to manage the distribution of those funds. It’s simpler this way.

Another good change is our new name. Instead of referring to us as that family who has that ministry in Africa that feeds those kids, you can call us “HUGS for Tomorrow”. You’ve probably heard us talk about the dangers of hand outs, so it may help to think of the HUGS part as a Hand Up for Growth and Success. We like to think of each meal, each trip to the clinic, each set of clothes, and each lesson we teach these kids as a hug that will carry them into a bright future—HUGS for Tomorrow. Besides, Hand Outs for tomorrow would be HOGS and that doesn’t really work, does it? 

The most practical change you need to know about is our new address, which I’ll share at the bottom of this article. Even though we live in Nebraska now, we’re keeping the nonprofit registered in Texas. We loved working with the secretary from our last church so much that we hired her to work for HUGS. John, along with his new job at York College, will remain the director of HUGS and I’ll keep writing and posting pictures and videos to keep you informed. We want you to know that without your overwhelming support we would have no reason to go this route. Because of you, HUGS for Tomorrow exists and will serve some of the most precious, most forgotten children in the world for years to come. God bless you for your generosity and for your prayers. 

Now, we need some mail so go ahead and try out our new contact information:

HUGS for Tomorrow

P.O. Box 1816 

Azle, Texas 76098

Or make a tax-deductible PayPal donation here.